Good night, and good luck

I almost fell off the wagon last night. Dr. R invited me to a movie with one of her sisters -- to see "Good Night, and Good Luck." I won't bother with the commentary on whether it was a good film or not (but I'll say both "Capote" and "Brokeback Mountain" were better). Rather, I'll just report on my struggle to remain passive and avoidant of the news. It's not all that easy, you know.

So I was sitting there in the movie and I was thinking of this photo I saw posted on a blog written by a friend of Dr. M. It was a photo of Anne Coulter posing happily at Joseph McCarthy's tombstone. Dr. M, who obviously has a gift for vulgarity, called Coulter a "disgustig, vile, putrid cow" and a "life-sized taint." (I'm *still* laughing at that!) She's a serious cobag, as the blog's author notes. Not to mention a nasty media whore.

Watching "Good Night, and Good Luck" made me think about the many grotesque injustices committed by the United States today. Guantanamo is the very thing Murrow was warning about some 50 years ago. And Abu Ghraib was like the Anne Coulter-certified version of Guantanamo.

Every so often, I'd hear Dr. R sighing in her seat, disgusted by the footage from the McCarthy hearings. When it was over, she said, "I feel like ... writing some letters." (She's *clearly* a rabble-rouser!) Dr. R hasn't had a television for several years, and on accounts of how she looks much younger than her actual age, I felt compelled to tell her the McCarthy hearings were, well ... over, so her letters might go unread. But then I thought, Why burst her bubble? She might also then have to come to grips with color television, and *that* could be a shock. So I stayed silent. Consider it a gift of friendship.

But you know, I understand the frustration she felt. I took note of the news meetings Murrow's staff had over what to put on his show. The same discussions -- nearly word-for-word sometimes -- still go on in newsrooms all over this country. The same debates. The same squabbles about advertisers. The same fear of reporting something upsetting. The same negotiations with the owners of the papers or TV stations. The same crappy pressure from governmental officials to see the stories ahead of time so they can "approve" them. I mean, REALLY, the shit has barely changed since 1953.

What has changed is that there are fewer and fewer journalists like Murrow and more and more media outlets around to drown out the voices of those who *are* like him.

Frustrated by the parallels to today, I felt compelled to go home and get online, to return to my old haunts -- from the New York Times and the Guardian to the Sydney papers, Salon and Slate. I almost fell off the wagon. Then, sanity returned with my little mantra: You reading isn't going to make any difference to what's happened. Just let it go. Watch 'Saturday Night Live' and fall asleep in front of the mindless TV instead.

You know, it's just as well for Dr. R that she doesn't have a TV. True to Murrow's warning at the film's end, if the medium wasn't used for some kind of educational good, it would be nothing more than a box with lights and wires. That's pretty much what we've got now, isn't it?

On the upside, though, I did learn from the movie that Liberace was putting off marriage until he found someone with whom he could have a lasting relationship. Sounds like that the many-jeweled dude was looking for PASSION. Boy, let me tell ya, NOW, I feel like I'm in good company. Whew!

(Addendum of March 9: Dr. R informs me she is aware that the McCarthy hearings are no longer continuing. I misunderstood her comment about writing a letter. Apparently, she is rather upset about Watergate and hopes President Nixon will resign soon. *heh.* We can only hope.... Apologies, Dr. R, for misrepresenting you. I shall strive to be more accurate in my reporting of events in the future. It's not like I have a lot of experience at it....)